Hurt
by Gedia Kacela
Summary: Satine had never been hurt before. That is, not like this. Not like now.


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Hurt

Disclaimer: Bazzie thought it up, dahlings. If I had, well... I'd be rather rich right about now.

Author's Notes: Watching MR again has brought on a rush of new fics, this among them. It's bordering on something like stream-of-consciousness, but not quite.

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No.

No?

She had never been hurt before. That is, not like this. Several had been rough lovers, a bit on the masochistic side, but never had she been truly afraid. Not like now.

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My dear Duke...

You... made me believe... that you... loved_ me._

He advanced on her, and she was gripped with a sudden, blind fear. She had to get away. She had to get back. Back to Christian. Then everything would be okay. He would protect her.

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One day I'll fly away...

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not this way. It was supposed to be fine. She was just going to sleep with the Duke. _You promised me you wouldn't be jealous._ The show would go on, like it always did. It would be a success, the Duke would have satisfied himself with her (that was all they ever wanted anyway) and she and Christian would live happily ever after. That was the way the story was supposed to end. _Let Zidler keep his fairy tale ending..._ She thought that meant keeping hers too.

She had heard the other girls talk of this... of being... no, she wouldn't say it. It wouldn't happen. She ran round the table, toward the door, towards escape, but he followed, sending the table settings to the ground. _She's so fine... and she's mine._ Where were the servants? Hadn't there been servants earlier? Serving them, presenting the damnable necklace that seemed to weigh her down as she fled him, watching as she had kissed him while pretending all the while that his vile mouth was Christian's.

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I don't want you to sleep with the Duke.

She'd heard of this happening, she remembered vaguely as his cold hand caught her, of men with the desire of absolute possession. _I don't like other people touching my things... _But those men had been scum, barely capable of paying the lowest fee for one of the girls. She remembered the bruised eyes, the bloody lips, the cracked ribs... hadn't one of them died?

Oh, God, she didn't want to die.

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One day I'll fly away...

She remembered the funeral, dressed in black, black gloves creeping up her pale arms. _The boy has a ridiculous obsession with me... we need him. But only until tonight._ The black veil had covered her face, like it had the other girls. _My dear Duke, I hope I have not kept you waiting._ She couldn't remember the girl's name. Why couldn't she remember?

She expected to feel something, anything. But she didn't. She was no longer playing the part of the Sparkling Diamond. That had melted away with her desire to pretend, to be a star. _Do you really think I could be like the great Sarah Bernhart?_ She didn't want that anymore. She just wanted to get away. It was as if, now that she was not the Sparkling Diamond, she didn't know what to feel, what to think. 

Pain.

He was hurting her, forcing her to her knees.

No, God, please no.

A frigidness took hold of her, rendering her motionless. All she could do was tremble violently as he stalked about her, his pale, clammy hands running over her skin.

Claiming

Tearing

Possessing

Ripping

Hurting

She wanted to run, to scream. But who would hear? Would her prince climb the tower to bring down his fair love?

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I don't want you to sleep with the Duke.

But this was no fairytale. It was no act, no stage performance. There was no music, no lights, no cues. More importantly, there was no one to catch her when she fell. _You've frightened her away!_ This was reality, something she had lived outside for so long that she had almost failed to recognize it.

Now she knew why she loved to pretend, to be someone else.

Reality hurt, and she was not used to the pain.

She wanted to dance on clouds again, to be serenaded in an elephant, to be read poetry in bed, to be a courtesan in love with a penniless sitar player. She wanted everything she had never had.

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Why does my heart cry...

But all she could see was this room, the black bed.

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... feelings I can't fight!

All she had now was the pain.

END


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